


scatterted stardust

by ruukutia



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Star Wars AU, genuinely don't know what else to tag this as my gf bribed me to post it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25101616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruukutia/pseuds/ruukutia
Summary: Not everyone picks sides in a war, and Beau was content to live as a smuggler flying under the radar until things have blown over.But then two bounty hunters walk into her life and her shit goes sideways.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	scatterted stardust

It was supposed to be a simple delivery job. Something they’d done plenty of times now. Pick up the cargo, transport it, drop it off, get paid, no questions asked. 

Beau’s starting to think this time she should’ve asked questions.

It wasn’t like she was a _smuggler_ , really - she had no desire to strike it rich bypassing Imperial trade laws, she was just one of many trying to scrape by. And sure, maybe she had smuggled contraband on more than a couple occasions, but it was never anything serious enough to warrant a retaliation from Imperial outposts. Until today. 

For whatever reason, their cargo had set off the long range sensors of an outpost as they flew past - asteroids made a jump to the destination entirely in hyperspace impossible - and within moments she had the TIE fighters on her radar. 

So here she is, sweat starting to bead on her forehead as she flies head-on into the asteroid field, her co-pilot gripping his controls so tightly it turns the skin on his knuckles light green. He’s not saying anything, partially because he knows better, and partially because their mechanic is manning the small ship’s light cannons. It makes him nervous, and not because it’s something she isn’t supposed to be good at - she shouldn’t be, because she’s a _mechanic_ , but she _is_ , and she’s cackling as she fires. Beau doesn’t hear it. She’s too busy making sudden turns and swerves to try and lure their pursuers into collisions with the rocks. That’s not technically her fault if they hit, right?

One falls prey to her tactics. She hears the confirmation, glances down to her radar to confirm the ship blip out of existence, then makes another sharp turn. The remaining two seem to have caught on to her and have traded speed for maneuverability and firepower. She grits her teeth and barks at her co-pilot, “Fjord, reroute the rest of the shield’s energy to the rear.”

She can feel his hesitation. 

“Y’sure? It’ll save our asses if one of those asteroids hits us-”

“C’mon, just do it! You worry about the rest of navigation, I got the whole...not turning us into space dust thing. Or exploding.” She hears him take a deep breath, but he flips a few switches and the impacts from the fighers’ laser fire lessens. But the shields won’t last forever and there’s still two Imperial ships on their tail. The warning alarm of two approaching torpedoes snaps her back to reality. “Oh, you _assholes_ ,” Beau growls and jerks their ship into a series of side rolls, watching the projectiles explode harmlessly against some of the smaller asteroids. It sends some small chunks thudding against the viewport and she notices it gives her some more maneuverability. She radios their triggerhappy mechanic.

“Jester! Jester, you good back there?”

”Yeees, but the...really don’t...do they?”

The static coming over on her end is bad. She mentally kicks herself for putting off buying new comlinks in favor of a few ales. 

“Cool, cool, listen, I’m gonna pull up and get behind these guys and you’re gonna blast them and we win, yeah?”

”Oka...want me to sho...em? Don’t we have li...SUPER HUGE LASERS or someth…”

“ _Jester_. Just shoot, okay?”

”Okayok....kay.”

“Hang on,” Beau says to Fjord in a warning moments before pulling them up into an arc, up and behind the TIEs. She watches as within moments several shots spray ahead; most miss but two find their mark on the back of one of the fighters and Beau has to squint against the light of the resulting fireball. But it’s enough cover for the remaining ship to perform the same stunt as her, and she swears as the lock-on warning blares in the cockpit. They’re running out of time and about halfway through the field (and she’ll worry about what exactly destroying two Imperial fighters means later) when suddenly the third explodes abruptly behind them. “ _Fuck_ yeah, Jester,” Beau breathes out, pulling the throttle back to slow their speed, and she’s met with a giggle. 

“Thank y...buuuuut…wasn’t me!”

Beau’s unspoken question is answered at the same time Fjord mutters, “Aw, hell.”

Speeding through the debris of the wrecked TIE is a new ship, and it’s not Imperial or anything Beau even recognizes. “Shit. Shit shit _shitshitshitshit-_ ”

She slams a fist into the console before rapidly plotting a course through the remainder of the field - if she can just get clear, they can jump to lightspeed - and throws the throttle forward again.

If she can outmaneuver Imperials, losing this newcomer should be no problem.  
Or so she thinks.

Whoever’s piloting the ship is skilled, she’ll give them that much. The movement is too risky and wild for an Imperial trained soldier. They match Beau’s pace, and as much as it irritates her, it also excites her. And then she’s impressed when the other pilot throws all caution to the wind and effortlessly dodges through the field with the boosters at full speed, closing most of the distance between the two ships.

“Beau,” Fjord’s voice cuts through her thoughts. “They’re trying to open a communication channel.”

“Well, uh, they haven’t shot us out of the sky so...let ‘em in, I guess.” She definitely doesn’t say it’s because she wants to see just who the _hell_ could outpace her like that. Both ships slow to a stop just outside of the asteroid field.

The holoprojection screen flickers to life as a man in intricately painted maroon armor, sans helmet, stares back at her. Beau immediately recognizes the armor. _Mandalorian_. She also recognizes his features to be those of Jester’s species, but lavender colored instead of blue. “Ah! Hello there, I was hopin’ you’d pick up. Don’t suppose you’ll come quietly, hm?”

She squints. “Who the hell are you?”

“Where are my manners,” he says, the cocky grin on his face serving only to annoy Beau more, “Mollymauk Tealeaf, bounty hunter. So good to finally meet you, Beauregard Lionett.”

She bristles at the mention of her full name. “Cool. Fuck off.”

The tiefling laughs and leans further back in his chair. “I’m afraid bounty hunting doesn’t quite work that way. Either you come with us willingly, or you come with us beat to hell. Your choice, really.”

“Yeah? You fight as well as you fly?”

Another laugh. She’s really starting to hate this guy.

“No, but my partner does. I’d be in trouble if I fought as well as I flew. Come here, will you?” Mollymauk’s attention is turned to someone to his left. “No, no, you don’t have to- just keep the helmet off.”

A tall, pale woman walks into view and Beau has to make a conscious effort not to stare. She stands behind Mollymauk, barely in frame of the projection with her arms crossed over gray and stormy blue plates of armor. Her hair is long and dark, braided and messy, ending in lighter colored tips. Her mismatched eyes look anywhere but the screen and the audio feed picks up a quiet mumble from her, something about how she doesn’t like being without her helmet. Mollymauk waves a hand in her direction. “You’ll be fine. Besides, you’ll get to put it on if you have to go and drag Beauregard out of that ship of hers.”

“The name’s _Beau_ ,” she spits, trying her best to stare a man down over a projection.

“Right, right, Beau. Are you gonna surrender, or will this get messy?”

“What are you even after me for?” It’s an honest question, for once.

The smug smile on the bounty hunter’s face broadens into a grin. “We got a tip that a ship carrying some very interesting cargo would be passing by Outpost Alfield, piloted by a Beauregard. We were hired to bring you and the cargo back with us.”

“Yeah, cool, except I don’t even know what I’m carrying-”

“That certainly sounds more like a _you_ problem, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, fuck off.”  
Her patience is wearing thin.

“...Molly.”  
Then again, maybe not.

A half-formed idea pops into Beau’s mind.  
Something that uses another set of her skills.

“...Hey, okay, look. I’ll come with you. Cargo’s whatever.” She shoots Fjord a look when he makes a sound of protest. “But my crew doesn’t get hurt annnd...I get to know her name,” she finishes, looking directly at the other woman. Mollymauk looks at Beau, then tilts his head up to his companion and shrugs. “Works for me. Go on, my dear, work your charm.”

“Wh- This isn’t…damn it, Molly," she breathes. Beau can't quite tell what she's feeling, but she looks flustered. "Yasha. I’m...I’m Yasha.”

A broad, cheeky grin settles on Beau's face as she leans back in her seat. "Yasha...cool. Cool," she says, nodding. "Well, if you're gonna arrest me, come over and get me."  
The smirk doesn't drop from her face, and there's a visible shyness and panic from the other woman. Mollymauk glances up at her, something between amusement and concern showing in the slight quirk of his eyebrow. 

"That's not...that's not necessary. We will just, you know, escort you to the nearest planet with a landing pad associated with our client," Yasha says, unable to look at Beau the entire time she speaks. 

"Which would put us at...Zadash, so if you go off course, we _will_ offer some gentle course correcting courtesy of our forward cannons," the purple tiefling cheerfully informs her. "So best to just punch it in to your nav and let autopilot do the work, hm?"

Zadash.  
Beau thinks of all the reasons that might be the base of operations and comes to one conclusion: the Cobalt Soul.  
_Fuck._

But she doesn't have a choice right now, really. So she rights herself in her seat, tapping in coordinates and engaging autopilot. Fjord gives her a stare of objection, but she gives him a slight shake of her head. It's not something she wants to get into right now. Maybe they can make a break for it once they land. She'll think of something; she's kept them alive this long so far. 

"Yeah, sure. Course is set."

"Great! We'll see you on the ground then, Ms. Lionett," Mollymauk says, flashing another fanged smirk. He cuts the communication channel before Beau has a chance to retort. 

"Fucker," she growls. Beau then turns her attention to her co-pilot. "Can you, uh. Tell Jester what's going on? And not to shoot at them. I gotta figure out a plan."

Fjord nods, standing. "Yeah. You got it."

As he disappears down below, Beau sighs and rests her head in her hands, elbows on her knees. She should've known she couldn't run forever, but she sure as hell had tried. And despite everything, she can't help but think back to the woman in Mandalorian armor. From the tales she'd heard, Mandalorians were supposed to be hardened warriors and hunters - Yasha hardly seemed to fit that description. Even Mollymauk seemed too obnoxious to fit into that kind of culture, but then again, she never exactly fit into the social mold she was thrust into. Part of her hopes she can learn a little bit more about them - _especially_ Yasha - before she's thrown back into a life she never wanted. 

Beau looks up and out of the cockpit's viewport, at the infinite stars spreading before her, and begins to prepare herself for whatever awaits them at Zadash.

**Author's Note:**

> my girlfriend planted the idea of "ace pilot beau" in my head when she went to disney last april, and some manner of creature possessed me to write this at 2am that day. it's been cleaned up a little since, so uh. enjoy this incredibly self indulgent niche project i suppose?


End file.
